


I Swear I'll Make It Worth It

by cyancandy



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Breaking Up & Making Up, College, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post Season 2, Post-Break Up, Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:28:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4301238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyancandy/pseuds/cyancandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a year since Makoto last saw Sousuke after they broke up. Makoto has moved on and is enjoying his college years, so when he's invited to a party that he knows Sousuke will be at Makoto decides to go, even if it means facing the man that broke his heart.</p><p>Inspired by Ariana Grande's "One Last Time". Background Rin/Haru</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Swear I'll Make It Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> I know absolutely nothing about Japanese universities. If this university seems pretty American then you are correct, it is American, as written by a lazy American who spent the time she could have used researching focusing instead on the porn. I apologize, and you're welcome.

“Are you ready, Haru?” Makoto sighed when he found his friend in the tub. “Come on, Haru, let’s go. Fashionably late is one thing, but we should get there before they run out of booze.”

Haru made a noise that Makoto interpreted as submission, and when Makoto reached down for him he let Makoto lift him up. It struck Makoto at that moment how so much had changed for them in the past couple years, while so much hadn’t changed at all.

“Go get changed,” Makoto said, checking himself in the mirror. “And no bathing suit, please.”

“A bunch of swimmers are going to be there…”

“Doesn’t mean you should wear a swimsuit to the party, Haru,” he responded, exasperated. He picked at his black shirt, repositioned the flannel jacket to falling his dark jeans. It was his best casual outfit. Or was it? Was it too casual, too dorky? Makoto forced himself to look away; he’d spent too long on clothes already, and he reasoned that stressing about it more wasn’t going to do much help. A few seconds he was looking back in the mirror, repositioning his hair.

He knew he shouldn’t be getting on Haru’s case but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t fair of him, but Makoto had been stressing out about this party for days while Haru was his usual calm self. Makoto wanted at least one other person to be a little stressed with him.

“Are you sure you want to go?” Haru asked from the doorway, finished dressing. Makoto wanted to groan: he’d spent an hour worrying about what to wear and wasn’t even sure he looked good, while Haru looked nice with just a minute of half-attention, even with his hair still wet from the bath.

Suddenly the words Haru said registered in his head, and his smile faltered. Haru hadn’t been the only one concerned: after he received the invite online, Rin sent him a private message saying [ _just so you know, sou will probably be there there_ ]. Rin hadn’t needed to do that. Makoto had already checked the invite list as soon as he saw who was throwing it.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said after a moment. Haru gave him a look so Makoto continued, “Honestly, I’m sure. I’m not saying it’s going to be...wonderful, but I’m not going to hide from him forever, Haru. And, worse comes to worst, you can just walk me home, right?”

Haru stared for a while more, but then shrugged. “Okay,” he said, turning to their front door.

Makoto looked at himself one last time, pulling at the edge of his jacket, before following his roommate out the door.

\--

Even though Makoto wasn’t on any of his university’s official sport teams he was familiar with the area of school housing where the athletes lived, at first through Haru but now from the many other friends he had made over the years. It was summer break so much of the school was empty; Makoto stayed behind for his job and other commitments, Haru for training. But the university had taken advantage of the empty space by inviting athletes from around the world to visit Tokyo and its university, to “build up relations” as it were, offering some of the houses and dorms in the athletic corner of the school. Many of the athletes who took advantage of the opportunity were foreigners wanting to see Japan, but there were a few using it to visit home.

Rin’s Australian team had come and were eager to get to know some of the university students on campus despite the language barrier, so the ones living in a house near the dorms set up a party and invited as many people as they could. All of the team members were expected to come, even the less social ones.

They arrived right when the party seemed to be getting good; there was music pounding and enough people to make a large crowd, but not too many to be cramped. Some were already tipsy, but the drinking hadn’t been going long enough for anyone to be too drunk.

Almost as soon as they entered the house there was a shout of “Haru! Makoto!” and Makoto found a weighed slamming against his side. He smiled down at the flash of red and cocky grin hanging off him.

“Hey Rin, it’s good to see you!”

“Likewise,” Rin laughed, pushing himself up off Makoto but keeping a hand on his arm to keep himself steady.

“Rin, are you already drunk? When did you start drinking?” Makoto teased, returning Rin’s grip to help him stay standing.

His happy expression was suddenly replaced with an emotionless one, and staring into Makoto’s eyes Rin said with all seriousness, “Australians are crazy, Makoto. They’re fucking crazy.” Rin’s eyes drifted to Haru and as quickly as his smile left it was back. “Hey beautiful,” he drawled, Makoto forgotten as Rin slinked over to Haru, wrapping his arms around the smaller man more for support than intimacy. “It’s been too long, Haru. Far too long.”

Makoto knew none of that was true: Haru had gone to see Rin at the airport as soon as he flew in the day before. Haru ignored Rin’s flirtatious mutterings and shifted his weight to better hold up his boyfriend, mumbling, “You’re going to be annoying tonight, aren’t you?”

Rin gave him a solemn nod. “Probably. Let me introduce you to the team!” he exclaimed, leading the way down the hall.

They entered a large room where most of the party goers congregated, and in one corner a large group of foreign men were laughing and yelling words Makoto couldn’t understand. Rin lead them to the group and said something to them in English. The men hailed out greetings, and a few yelled out some terribly broken Japanese phrases that made Makoto laugh. When Makoto tried to return some greetings back in English they laughed themselves and rewarded him with a cheer. He must have passed some sort of test because Makoto and Haru were given open bottles of beer as well as strong slaps on their backs.

“They’re telling you to chug the beers,” Rin said. “Don’t listen to them. They’ll just make you drink more.”

One of the Australians said something to Rin that distracted him and soon he was yelling back. They began to lead Rin away and Haru followed at his heel to keep him from falling over or letting any of his teammates talk Rin into doing anything else.

Makoto made to follow them when a voice cut through his chest.

“Hey.”

 _Oh_ , Makoto thought, looking up at the voice. _I had forgotten what it felt like to be small._

He never meant to, but sometimes Makoto would fantasize about seeing Sousuke again. Usually the fantasies weren’t kind. He had seen Sousuke happy and smiling many times, but whenever he recalled his face it was the one he wore the last time they saw each other. Angry. Cold. Annoyed, as if the whole experience was a mere irritation for him, while Makoto had felt like his whole world was falling apart.

That wasn’t how Sousuke looked now. His head was bent, his shoulder slumped, his jaw set, and his hands thrust deep in his pockets. When Makoto looked in his eyes he almost jumped again; he had forgotten how teal they were, now nervous, unsure. Expecting. Expressions he wasn't used to seeing on Sousuke. 

Makoto thought he was prepared for this moment but now that it was here the adrenaline hit him so hard that he had to force himself to not run away. He almost did anyways; almost made to follow Haru away to whatever corner Rin had led him, maybe giving a nod to Sousuke if he was feeling brave, and then ducking out of the party as soon as he could.

_No, not this time. I’m tired of feeling small._

Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, Makoto smiled at Sousuke, not quite returning his gaze to his eyes. “Hey. How are you?”

“Good. Still swimming,” Sousuke grimaced, but then said, “You? Still doing school?”

“Yeah. Only got about a year left.” 

"That's...that's good."

They were silent after that. Makoto had forgotten how awkward Sousuke had been when they first started talking years ago, and that was when Sousuke liked him. It wasn’t surprising that he was more awkward around the man he dumped. 

The thought stung. _He's barely said anything and my heart’s already hurting_ , Makoto thought.

He was so used to filling in the gaps of conversation that Makoto jumped a bit when Sousuke suddenly continued. “How have you been? I mean, you know, besides...school.” 

Makoto watched Sousuke rub his right shoulder, looking away at a corner. For all Makoto knew Sousuke’s shoulder was mostly healed, which is why he could swim professionally again in the first place. Makoto wondered if Sousuke’s fixation on his shoulder now was due to a ghost pain, or maybe it had become a nervous habit.

“I’ve been good. Haven’t had much free time lately with work and school.” And as passively as he could, Makoto added with a shrug, "I have a girlfriend, which is new." 

This was it. During the year plus of grief after their breakup, this was the vicious little spark of revenge that got him through the nights. The look on Sousuke's face when he found out that Makoto's moved on. _Makoto, the boy who worshipped you and would have let you walk all over him to make you happy, he doesn't need you anymore, he found someone better, yes someone better than the perfect Sousuke._ The one thing he had wished was that he would get the chance to say it to Sousuke directly, but with Makoto at school and Sousuke finally swimming again an ocean away it was so unlikely. But here he was, saying those glorious words, "I have a girlfriend" right to his face. 

Makoto knew exactly what would happen next - the impassive Sousuke would pretend like it didn't bother him, but for one marvelous moment he wouldn't be able to hide it. The words would hit him; he would interpret what they meant and then what they _really_ meant, and here it was, that split second when his mask cracked and Makoto saw what might have been pain -

"But we're not serious or anything."

 _Wait, what?_ They both blinked, and Makoto took a long drink hoping to hide his own shock. _Why did I say that? What is wrong with me? he thought furiously._

Sure, it was true. She was a classmate of his and they had been on a few dates, held hands, and they'd even kissed a few times, but nothing more than that. He didn't even know if she would like Makoto telling people they were dating, and if she was here she’d probably think that Makoto was being weirdly clingy or something. 

But that wasn't the fucking point: the point was that Sousuke didn't need to know any of that, and now all that time planning his petty revenge was out the window wasn't it, because if 'I have a girlfriend' meant 'fuck off, I'm over you', then 'we're not serious' was a challenge, a 'convince me otherwise'. And a glance at Sousuke reminded Makoto that if his ex loved anything, it was a challenge. 

It was a tiny smirk, barely a twitch of his mouth, and all Sousuke said was "I see," but the fire in his eyes burned at Makoto's guts. He was looking at him the way he did when they had first started messing around years ago, like he was a predator and Makoto was his prey. He had loved it then, and to his horror he found he still did: he loved to be chased, loved that honed look in Sousuke's eyes, as if he was the only thing that mattered in the world. But Makoto had learned the hard way that when a predator caught their prey, it was rarely for the benefit of the latter. He knew that now, but still here was that voice in his head, whispering _chase me, grab me, come and get me, make me yours -_

No. It's going to be different this time. Makoto wasn't the same man he a year ago. Let Sousuke chase him all he wanted, but when he got his fangs on him he would realize too late that Makoto wasn't prey anymore. 

Makoto forced himself to stare back into Sousuke's eyes, ignored the urge to look away from its intensity, and smiled. After taking a final, long swig of his beer he thrusted the bottle into Sousuke's hand. "Get me another?" It was more a command than a question. 

\--

Many beers later and on the prowl for more, Sousuke was too close. His mouth was against Makoto's ear, seemingly to be heard over the music, a hand on his arm to keep them from being pushed apart from the excess bodies around them, and he was saying with a caress of his thumb on Makoto's bicep, "Do you still workout?"

Makoto was glad that Sousuke was behind him because he couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes, only now remembering how handsy and cocky Sousuke got when he was drunk. He could _feel_ that stupid smirk against his ear. "Yeah, but not as much as I used to," Makoto replied vaguely towards Sousuke, pushing his way through the crowd and away from Sousuke's mouth. He was still caught in Sousuke's loose grip, but he wasn’t really trying to escape it. 

"Why not? Don't have time to swim anymore with school?"

"That, and work, and..." He paused, then tossed his head back to give Sousuke a quick smile. "I'm in a band."

"What, really? What position?"

"Vocals, and sometimes guitar." He replied, pushing their way towards the kitchen. Luckily this wasn't too hard to do; they towered over most of the crowd, even the athletes.

When Makoto turned back to Sousuke he found he wasn't smirking anymore. He was smiling. "I didn't know you could sing."

Of course he didn't - he didn't think even Haru knew either until recently. He learned young that he could hold a tune but it wasn't until he went to group karaoke with Kisumi that he was pressured to actually perform in front of a crowd. Stage fright had almost held him back, but Kisumi had been desperate when their lead singer left Japan and eventually Makoto gave in. Now that he had a few concerts under his belt the stage fright was, if not gone, lessened. Plus, even though he had never held a guitar before Kisumi taught him the basics, he found practicing a good way to relax at home, even if he was barely passable on stage. 

But he didn't say any of that to Sousuke. Instead he just asked, "Are you surprised?"

"Not at all."

He sensed a set up, but he couldn't help but fall for it anyways. "Why?"

This time when Sousuke leaned into his ear Makoto didn't pull away. "You've always had a pretty voice."

 _Stop flirting with me_ , Makoto almost snapped. _Not when you only want me because you’ve been drinking._ Instead, Makoto pushed Sousuke away with a laugh and walked into the kitchen. “You’re drunk, Sousuke.”

Sousuke followed him in. “True. You’re not cutting me off though, are you?”

“Hell no, not after what it took to get in here,” Makoto replied, picking up two beers and a handful more for the road. “Besides, no way I’m letting either of us spend this night sober,” he added, pushing the beers into Sousuke’s arms and keeping one for himself. 

Really, Makoto was only concerned about getting and staying drunk himself; it dulled the past pain, and made him focus on the present. He grimaced at the voice in his head that added that the longer Sousuke stayed drunk, the more he would flirt with him. 

Before Makoto could thread his way back through the crowd again he heard Sousuke say something, something so soft that Makoto shouldn’t have heard it over the music and the laughing and yelling, but he did hear it, did hear Sousuke when he whispered, light enough to be a joke, serious enough to doubt, “God I love you.”

Never in his life did Makoto want to punch someone in the face as much as he did at that moment.

\--

Their beers were dwindling when Haru found them. They were in a corner of a hallway where the music wasn't so loud, but they hadn't been talking for a while. Makoto was leaning against the wall holding his bottle with a loose grip, his eyes closed, enjoying the music and the dizziness in his head, and pretending to not notice how close Sousuke was standing to him, how he was trying to sneak his arm around Makoto's waist. He was trying to decide if he wanted to stop Sousuke when his friend walked up to them, only noticing Haru's presence when he spoke. 

"Makoto."

He opened his eyes and found Haru standing in front of them with a very drunk Rin leaning against his shoulder. Haru had addressed Makoto but wasn't looking at him, instead glaring at Sousuke. The hand near Makoto's waist left at that look, which annoyed Makoto. _Why are you mad?_ a voice chastised Makoto. _Haru's only doing what you should have been doing all night._

"Hey Haru," Makoto said, pushing himself off the wall. "How's Rin? Did the Australians get to him again?"

Rin made a noise. Haru answered, "Drunk. I'm taking him home."

Makoto knew Haru long enough to hear the questions he didn't ask. _"Do you want me to take you home now too? Or do you want to spend more time with the guy who made you cry for weeks after he dumped you without warning and little explanation? Are you sure you know what you’re doing?"_

He should leave. He should go with Haru. That’d be the smart thing to do before Makoto drank too much, before Sousuke really started touching him.

His waist felt cold.

"I want to stay a little longer." He refused to look at Sousuke when he said it. 

Makoto thanked a thousand gods that they had given him Haru as a friend. He didn't look mad or disappointed, didn’t lecture or pressure him to change his mind. He just said, "Text me if you need me, Makoto," his a voice heavy with concern, and left. 

A few minutes later Sousuke’s hand was under Makoto’s jacket, making circles with his fingers along Makoto’s waist, and Makoto prayed that his buzz would last all night. 

\--

It didn't. They stood in a secluded place outside and the only fuzziness he felt now came from Sousuke's hand resting along Makoto’s jaw, the brushing of his thumb along his bottom lip. His eyes were heavy but intense on Makoto’s mouth. “I miss kissing you,” he mumbled. “God, I miss kissing you. I miss you so much-”

Makoto bit Sousuke thumb. _Shut up, shut up, shut up._ “Kiss me.”

Sousuke launched forward as if he had been waiting for Makoto to give the command. He pushed him up against the side of the house and pressed his lips on Makoto’s, deep and overwhelming and suffocating. Everything Sousuke did was overwhelming, but this was different. In the past Makoto felt like he had to constantly reach for Sousuke, always pulling and pulling and trying to get something like love, like need out of him. He wasn’t prepared for the way Sousuke kissed him now, with one hand threaded into Makoto’s hair to its roots, the other pressing on Makoto’s back until there was no space left between them except for the occasional gasps against their lips. 

Sousuke moved down to his neck, kissing under his jaw, beneath his ear, down to his shoulder, occasionally running his teeth over Makoto’s skin. Makoto grabbed at Sousuke’s skull, pulling at his hair, trying in vain to keep in his moans. Sousuke groaned when one moan came out too loud and crushed his lips onto Makoto’s again; when his leg brushed up against Makoto's crotch he moaned into his mouth. 

And suddenly Makoto could breathe. Sousuke had moved to his ear, and Makoto was staring into the black city night when Sousuke whispered, “My dorm is right across the street.”

 _I shouldn’t do this, I shouldn’t do this._ Makoto pushed him back, already starting to shake his head because this hurt too much, it felt too good, and Sousuke was too good at making him feel good until it hurt, and making him hurt until it -

“I know you hate me.”

Makoto froze, looking at Sousuke. “What?”

“I know you hate me. And you have every right to hate me,” Sousuke’s eyes were closed, but when they opened Makoto realized with a start that Sousuke didn’t really look drunk anymore either. “I’m not asking you to love me again. I’m not asking for you back. I just…” And his forehead was leaning on Makoto’s, his eyes closed again, and he was whispering, “Just one night? Can we pretend like you don’t have a girlfriend, like I’m not leaving in a few weeks, like we're just like we used to be? Just for tonight? Is that okay?”

Pretending wouldn't make it not hurt in the end. Pretending would only last so long before reality set it. Pretending would be stupid. 

But it'd be nice to pretend in the mean time. 

"Lead the way."

\--

As soon as Sousuke shut the door Makoto jumped on him, wrapping one arm around his neck and pushing him against the wall, kissing into Sousuke’s grunt. Makoto slipped his other hand up Sousuke’s shirt, running it up his chest and back down. He'd miss Sousuke's hard body, and when he found that it harder now that he was devoted to training Makoto let out a delighted moan. Sousuke grabbed at the back of Makoto's head at his noise, reaching down to grab his ass with his other hand, and Makoto bucked up at him in response. 

Makoto pushed up Sousuke's shirt. Taking the hint, Sousuke pulled it completely off, Makoto panting in the brief pause before Sousuke crushed into him again. Sousuke grabbed at Makoto's jacket and ripped it off him so harshly Makoto thought he heard something tear, and without waiting Makoto took off his shirt. 

If Makoto had it his way they would have fucked against the wall, but without breaking contact Sousuke moved Makoto back towards the bed. Makoto readied himself to be pushed onto his back but Sousuke broke off the kiss to turn them around and fall back himself, gripping his hands and tugging Makoto down to follow.

As Makoto crawled over him he hooked a hand at Sousuke’s jeans and felt for the zipper until he caught a flash of color that made him freeze. "You got a tattoo?" Makoto said, so shocked that he momentarily forgot the heat of the moment. 

It was on his right shoulder, the injured one. Makoto remembered how red it used to be, how for a long time Sousuke would hide his winces whenever he moved his arm wrong. Now the only red left was from the ink swirled into his skin. It was dark in the room, but Makoto could make out a bird with outstretched wings of some kind, designed to look like it was made of watercolors of red and blue and yellow and green, loosely held in by a black outline. A phoenix?

Sousuke smiled up at him, suddenly looking self conscious. "You like it?"

Makoto nodded and ran his index finger along the outline. "Does it still hurt?" _Why am I asking? Why do I care? This is just a hook up, what does it matter to me if his stupid shoulder still bothers him?_

"As long as I'm careful not to irritate or strain it, no." Sousuke pulled himself up to run his lips over Makoto’s neck. "Unless you're asking about the tattoo. That hurt like a bitch."

Makoto let out a shuddered breath as Sousuke ghosted his mouth over his collarbone, his shoulders, moving his hands in a similar fashion over his chest and his back. There was no grabbing, no pinching, no sharp sparks of pain followed by pleasure; it was soft, slow, careful. Sousuke had said he wanted to pretend they were exactly how they used to be, but this was never how Sousuke seduced him in the past. Sousuke used to bite and grab his way over Makoto, but now he moved so slowly, so thoughtfully, as if he was trying to take in as much of him as he could, savoring him.

 _Well, if you want to be different, then so will I._ Makoto grabbed at Sousuke’s back and dug his nails in deep, smiling when he felt Sousuke jump, and when Sousuke moved up close to his face he grabbed the back of his head with one hand and crushed their lips together, running his tongue along Sousuke’s lip until the man gasped. He pushed him back down onto the bed and grabbed at Sousuke’s crotch, finding the outline of his erection and teasing it harshly.

Sousuke didn’t show whether he noticed Makoto’s change in behavior, too busy thrusting his hips up to meet Makoto’s hand. He barely lifted himself up in time for Makoto to rip his jeans off him, bringing down his briefs with them, tugging down his own pants soon after. 

They thrust their hips together, drunk on the movement alone, and Makoto pulled himself away from Sousuke’s kiss and latched onto his neck, biting and sucking at whatever his teeth could grab at, and Sousuke kept murmuring “Fuck, fuck, _Makoto._ ”

Sousuke reached under his bed and grabbed a bottle of lube. In better circumstances Makoto would have made a joke about the need to keep lube at such an easy to reach place, but the words died on his tongue when he considered that maybe the lube wasn't there for Sousuke alone. It wasn't like Makoto had a right to complain, here in the arms of another man with a not-really girlfriend somewhere else ( _no no don't think about that_ ), but he bit down on Sousuke's collarbone all the same, smiling into the shudder he received in response. 

When Sousuke began to sink down his body Makoto grabbed at his shoulders, almost stopping him. He didn't want to be clear in his head, couldn't stand Sousuke to be too far from his center of focus, otherwise he might think too much and reason might make him stop. But when Sousuke looked up at him through the strands of his black hair, a hand grazing over his thighs, and a word on his mouth, Makoto pushed him down himself, saying, "Suck me".

Sousuke smirked; Makoto sat back and watched Sousuke coat lube over his fingers, and then settled down over his crotch, using one hand to lift up his cock to lick it from the underside, a finger going down between his legs. At first he just brushed his finger against Makoto’s hole, teasing its rim, and likewise used his mouth just as sparingly, only giving a few licks here, a few sucks there, even kissing the top of his head. Makoto groaned, but before he could show his frustration Sousuke was pushing in a finger, covering up any discomfort by putting his mouth over the head of Makoto’s cock, giving it a light squeeze.

“Fuck!” Makoto gasped, clawing at Sousuke's head with one hand, the other gripping the bedspread for dear life. Sousuke swirled his tongue around the head, running along the slit, taking his mouth up and down its length in a slow rhythm. He pushed his finger in deep inside Makoto, then back out. He would have probably taken his time here too but Makoto could barely hold himself together, letting his hips twitch upwards because he almost couldn’t keep them from bucking up into Sousuke’s mouth completely. With a low chuckle that reverberated down Makoto’s cock and throughout his body, Sousuke slowly slipped in another finger, pushing down his mouth and taking in more of Makoto to give some pleasure to the discomfort, stopping when his lips met his fingers holding onto Makoto’s base.

His fingers started to gently spread open Makoto, and Sousuke bobbed his head up and down, and it felt so good, Sousuke was going so soft, so gently, as if he wanted to take in every moment with Makoto he had, and when he looked up at Makoto's face his expression stabbed into his heart. 

"Okay, okay, god, fuck me," Makoto panted. 

Sousuke took his mouth off Makoto, eyebrows furrowing. "You're ready?"

 _No, but I want to get on with it._ "Yeah, come on," thrusting his hips down in emphasis. 

It didn't look like Sousuke believed him. Still, he removed his fingers from Makoto, who groaned at their loss, and moved over to his bedside desk. He couldn't stand the break in the tension - it was too easy to think in the pauses. Makoto reached down to stroke himself while Sousuke looked, letting out small moans, more to tease him than from pleasure. He wasn’t looking at Sousuke, but judging by the increased fumbling he heard beside him Makoto could tell it was working.

It took longer than Makoto expected for Sousuke to find a condom. When he glanced over at the bed table he discovered why: Sousuke had to first open up what looked like a new box to get one.

Suspicion crept into Makoto’s mind. He had no proof, but he suspected that Sousuke had only recently bought the box, maybe just a few days ago. Maybe around the time an invite list was posted for a certain party.

_Did you plan this? Did you think that this night was going to end with me here in your bed?_

Another thought came in reply: _is this what I was planning on doing too, all the way from the start?_

Sousuke slipped on the condom and bent over Makoto, kissing at his chest and positioning his cock. "Tell me if you need more time," he mumbled into his neck. Makoto pushed his hips down against Sousuke in response, and Sousuke let out a chuckle that was half aroused, half exasperated before slowly pressing in. 

It hurt. Not enough for Makoto to be worried about injuring himself, but enough that he barely stopped himself from yelling out. He could maybe blame it on the short foreplay but that wasn't the entire problem: he wasn't relaxing, almost consciously refusing to. Not noticing how he was sinking his nails in deep, he clenched his jaw, refusing to open his eyes. He gripped at Sousuke's good shoulder.

Sousuke was barely inside him and he wasn't moving; instead he ran his hands over Makoto's body, leaning over him, trying to touch his face. "Makoto..." 

"Move," Makoto let out, thrusting his own hips against Sousuke, pushing Sousuke in deeper.

Sousuke did as he was told but just barely. His thrusts were shallow, slow, and careful, and Makoto clenched his body every time Sousuke's breath tickled his neck. After an agonizing amount of time Makoto snapped, “No, fuck you, _fuck me_ ,” grabbing at Sousuke’s hips and pulling at them, trying to make him go faster.

But he didn’t change his pace. He kept his slow pace, wrapped his arms around Makoto, and against his neck he whispered over and over, “Makoto...”

It was too much. Makoto pushed up against Sousuke until he had the taller man on his back and began to move thrust against Sousuke himself. He was tense, but still he moved, muttering, “Shit, shit...”, forcing his hips up and down. Past the pain there was a dull thread of pleasure, and keeping his eyes shut Makoto tried to grab at that thread, shutting out everything else. He dug his nails in deep on the chest beneath him, desperately ignoring Sousuke's caress against this thighs. 

"Makoto, it's okay, Makoto..."

_You don't get it, you don’t fucking get it. It's only okay because you're here, because you're back, but it shouldn't be. It shouldn't be okay. Because it’s okay right now, but you're going to hurt me again, and I'm going to let you do it._

But then Sousuke sat up on his elbows and kissed him, softly at first, then deeply, letting his tongue run against Makoto's lips, searching for Makoto's own when the man opened his mouth. He kissed him until Makoto moaned, until it stopped hurting and he could move without pain, and Makoto couldn't help but take one of his hands stabilizing him and clutch at Sousuke's cheek. When his thrusts became less stuttering, when Makoto couldn't keep in his sighs, Sousuke began to thrust back, no longer hesitant. 

"Does it feel good?" Sousuke asked against his lips. 

"Yes," Makoto replied, unable to hide anymore. "Fuck, it feels so good."

When Sousuke reached in for a kiss again Makoto felt the smirk on his lips. After a few more thrusts Sousuke grabbed at Makoto's waist, and Makoto didn't protest when he was flipped onto his back again. His legs were spread wider as Sousuke bent over him once more, kissing at his neck as he knotted his hand into Makoto's hair. 

"Please, Sousuke, I need it..." Makoto whimpered, clutching at his own cock, brushing up against Sousuke's stomach as he stroked himself.

There was a grunt in reply, and Sousuke hooked his arm around one of Makoto's legs to anchor himself as he began pound into Makoto, using the hand still on his head to angle him back into a kiss, muffling Makoto's gasps. His movements weren't graceful, but even as he sped up, even as he thrust harder, he moved no less thoughtlessly. This time when Makoto clawed at Sousuke's back it was done without forethought, and all at once he was so close, even though he only had been feeling good for a little while. 

Sousuke must have still remembered how to read Makoto because he was whispering, "Come for me, Makoto. God you feel so good. Fuck, I missed you, I want to make you come Makoto..."

That might have been the thing that got at Makoto the most afterwards - he could accept how easy it was for him to be seduced, how Sousuke still remembered how to get him off, that maybe he wasn't as over Sousuke as he thought, all of that Makoto could forgive himself for. But knowing that Sousuke's words alone drove him over the edge, Makoto couldn't help but feel ashamed. Ashamed that after all this time, Sousuke still had that power over him. 

Sousuke didn't last much longer; he watched as Makoto came between his fingers across his stomach, letting out shuddered gasps, and suddenly he came to, burying his head into Makoto's shoulder and groaning, "Fuck, Makoto..." 

Despite the waves of aftershock rolling through him, Makoto had a twitch of irritation at Sousuke saying his name while he came. Did it still make it just a hookup when you came to the name of your partner? He didn't feel ashamed about hooking up, and he didn't need Sousuke acting like it was more than that for his sake. Never the less, Makoto found himself rubbing his arms over Sousuke's back, enjoying the soft pleasure of touch alone. 

Sousuke responded to the touch, humming as he nestled closer, the hand still in Makoto's hair loosening its grip and massaging his scalp. When he kissed at Makoto's neck, with none of the heavy suggestion of before, Makoto's heart ached. This felt too good, too loving, too familiar, but now so foreign. Not how he wanted to be touched by a man who was just going to leave him again. 

This time when Sousuke kissed him Makoto didn't return it. Exhaustion was hitting him now, and the low that came after the high made him feel so empty, punctuating by Sousuke slowly pulling himself out, that Makoto wanted to cry. 

"I'll clean us up," Sousuke said, sounding distant. Makoto turned on his side a bit away from Sousuke, settling his head into the crook of his elbow and, without looking at him, nodded. 

He tried not to think of anything in the silence that followed. 

By the time Sousuke came back Makoto was already falling asleep, just managing to clean his hands and stomach with the towel Sousuke brought with him. He didn't say anything as Sousuke climbed into the bed next to him. He just turned to the wall and thanked god that sleep always found him quickly. 

\--

Makoto woke up angry.

It wasn't from the dryness of his mouth, or the nausea in his stomach, or even the pounding in his head, though none of that helped. It was opening his eyes and finding Sousuke sleeping peacefully, almost smiling, with an arm draped across Makoto. 

_This isn't how it was supposed to happen_ , Makoto thought. 

Remembering the night before made him feel ill. He wasn't supposed to even go to that party when he found out Sousuke would be there, but he had been stubborn, desperate to prove to Rin and Haru and even himself that Sousuke didn't bother him anymore. He was supposed to ignore him the whole night, or only talk enough long to him to let Sousuke know he was over him, but that didn't happen either. He wanted to say that it was because Sousuke wouldn't leave him alone the whole night, but really, Makoto had never tried to get away from him. He could have tracked down Haru or Rin, could have just flat out ignored Sousuke, could have left when Haru checked on him, but he hadn’t. Not because Sousuke made him be with him, but because Makoto _wanted_ to. 

And when Makoto left with Sousuke, he had convinced himself it was just to hook up, have a quick fuck for old time's sake, and then Makoto could go back to his life, his life without Sousuke, the life that Sousuke had left him with in the first place. But no, Sousuke wouldn't even let him have that. 

_Fuck you, you can't do this to me_ , he wanted to scream at Sousuke's stupid sleeping face. _You can't cut me out of your life and then force me back in again. You can't toss me aside like I'm nothing and then tell me how much you miss me, joke about how you still love me. You can't fuck me over and then make love to me. You can't do this to me._ Suddenly Makoto sat up, knocking Sousuke's arm off him, knowing the man usually slept like a rock and not caring if he didn't this time. _No, he won't do this to me. This time, I'm the one walking away._

He ignored the surge in his stomach when he climbed out of the bed. He ignored the pounding in his head as he searched through their scattered clothes until he was dressed. He ignored the dull pain at his hips that rippled through him if he crouched too fast. And when he left the dorm he made sure to slam the door behind him, not caring if it woke the man he left behind. 

\--

The anger didn't last. He only just made it through his front door when Makoto sunk down against the door, buried his head into his arms and knees, and wept.

Haru must have heard him because it wasn't long before he was crouching down in front of Makoto, placing a hand on his head. "Did he hurt you?" Haru asked, straight to the point. 

His tears were too heavy and his throat hurt too much from crying and from his hangover, so Makoto just shook his head. 

Haru left for a bit, and when he came back he set down a glass of water next to Makoto. On Makoto’s other side was a narrow space between himself and the wall where Haru squeezed himself in, letting his shoulder rest against Makoto’s. 

Eventually Makoto’s breaths evened out, and after taking a drink of the water without choking he leaned his head on Haru’s shoulder. "I thought you'd be with Rin."

"He's asleep in my room."

“I’m sorry.” He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for. Ruining his time with Rin. Needing Haru to comfort him for months after Sousuke broke up with him, and then letting himself get hurt all over again so Haru would have another mess to clean up. All of it. 

“It’s nothing,” Haru said. “Do you need food?”

Makoto shook his head. “Hungover.”

“Food would help. Medicine?”

“He said still loves me." Makoto could feel his throat closing up again, but he forced the words out. "He said he misses me. But I don't know if he was just fucking with me so I'd sleep with him."

There was no response.

“I don’t understand, I don’t fucking understand,” Makoto gasped, new tears rolling down his face. He buried his face again into his knees and said. “I thought I was over him, Haru.”

Haru said nothing as Makoto began to cry again, quieter now. He just put his arm around his friends shoulder, sat with him on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> This took entirely too long to write. I apologize for the long first chapter, I'm hoping that the next chapters won't be such a word dump. 
> 
> I also apologize to Australia.
> 
> I had to copy in this story in a weird way so hopefully nothing got messed up - if there's anything out of place please let me know~
> 
> Bother me on tumblr: roseshell.tumblr.com


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